


we brushed our hands right back in time through centuries

by thisismy_design (thisismydesignn)



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Library Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismydesignn/pseuds/thisismy_design
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The clarity of passion.</i> </p><p>A remix of the library scene in Atonement. Erik is Robbie; Charles is Cecilia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we brushed our hands right back in time through centuries

**Author's Note:**

> Been meaning to write this since XMFC first came out. The Days of Future Past trailer inspired me to finally get it done.
> 
> Title from "Laughter Lines" by Bastille.

Charles hears the library door open, but he doesn’t turn around. Doesn’t need to; he may stay out of Erik’s thoughts, but the other man leaves an impression, an imprint on his mind that never quite disappears. This time, though, there’s a tension in the air, something that’s lingered unsaid between them for far too long.

“I don’t know how I could’ve been so ignorant about myself, so…” Charles finally turns to look at Erik, needing to see his face as he finishes, “So stupid.” _If anyone should_ know _himself, it’s me,_ he continues in his mind; he doesn’t mean to project, but when Erik takes a step forward, halting, uncertain, Charles knows he heard.

“You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?” he asks, aloud this time, and emotion that isn’t his own flares somewhere in the back of his mind. “You knew before I did.” The realization sparks something in him, and he feels a tear slide down his cheek, out of his control. Shutting his eyes, Charles moves to turn away, but he’s frozen when Erik finally, _finally_ speaks aloud. “Why are you crying?”

Charles fixes him with a disbelieving gaze, voice breaking on a whisper as he asks, “Don’t you know?”

His desperation breaks something within Erik, tearing down his last semblance of resistance, and he’s crossing the distance between them before he can stop to think. “Yes, I know exactly—” and then he’s finished speaking altogether, capturing Charles’ lips, feeling them open beneath his own, and it’s like he can finally breathe again.

The kiss lasts only a few moments, overwhelming them both; when they part, they still cling to one another, unwilling to let go. Their eyes meet, and then Erik is pressing Charles back into the bookcase, kissing him more deeply than before, lifting him up against one of the shelves and fitting himself between Charles’ spread legs. One of Charles’ hands fists in Erik’s sweater as the other comes up to curl around the rungs of the ladder at his side, unconsciously steadying himself as he kisses back, insatiable. Erik’s lips are insistent against his own, and Charles can no longer tell where his desire ends and Erik’s begins. Physically, it’s overwhelming— Erik’s tongue tracing his own, teeth around his lower lip, breath hot between their mouths— but mentally, it’s oddly peaceful, arousal blotting out every coherent thought until all that remains is the press of Erik’s body and the sounds that escape his lips.

Slipping a hand between them, Charles tries unsuccessfully to unbuckle Erik’s belt. Erik makes a noise of frustration and does it himself with a twitch of his wrist, using the metal of the zipper to push his pants to his knees. He pulls back to set Charles down, help him tug his own trousers off completely, tossing them aside and returning to his place between Charles’ legs as though he can’t stand to be apart for a moment longer.

Their lips find each other once more, but this time, a question in Erik’s mind tugs at the edge of Charles’. He says _yes_ without words, feeling Erik’s lips curve into a smile against his own.

Charles drags himself away for the briefest of moments to take Erik’s hand and suck two fingers into his mouth, getting them as wet as possible. The action is so uncharacteristic that he can’t help but blush, though Erik’s groan sends a different flush altogether through his body.

Erik’s hand slips between his legs; he trails wet fingers over Charles’ cock, around his hips and the curve of his ass to press against his entrance, gentle but determined pressure. Charles forces himself to ease into it and feels Erik respond, pressing in all too quickly— and too slow, at once. He winces, but Erik’s at the edge of his consciousness again, telling him to _relax_. With effort, Charles manages to do so, and soon Erik’s hand is flush against him, fingers so deep that all Charles can do is gasp and hold on.

It’s nowhere near enough, but the desperation, the heat in the air steals any sense of reason. It feels like only moments until Erik’s fingers are replaced by his cock, the blunt press of the head to Charles’ entrance drawing moans from both men. Then he’s _inside_ and Charles stops breathing, heart in his throat, unable to speak, until—

“Erik.”

The sound of his voice in the otherwise quiet library is startling to them both. Legs trembling with the effort of holding still, Erik meets his gaze, responds with a simple, “Charles.”

He can hardly think, but knows what’s coming before he says it.

“I love you.”

Erik’s never said it— never trusted anyone enough, never let himself— but the words spill forward out of his control, “I love you,” and as he says them he knows they’re true.

He feels Charles tighten around him and pulls back just enough to thrust shallowly into his body, searching for that place inside that will make Charles weak, and that’s new, too: the first time he’s put someone else’s pleasure ahead of his own.

On the third thrust, he finds it. He hears, _feels_ Charles’ moan all throughout his body, the way his legs go slack and moments later wrap tightly around his waist, wanting _more_.

Erik can thrust more deeply now, and he aims for that spot each time, nearly as thrilled by Charles’ frantic moans as the impossible friction around his cock. He’s close, _so_ close already, but he wants Charles to come first, wants to see him come undone.

He gets more than he bargained for.

Working a hand between their bodies, Erik circles his fingers around Charles’ cock, murmuring indistinct encouragement. Charles clings to him more tightly, caught between Erik’s cock and his fist, thrusting down as best he can from his precarious position against the shelves. Then Erik’s thumb catches under the head just as he thrusts more deeply than before, pleasure spiking through Charles’ body and spilling over before he even has a chance to catch his breath.

No distinct thoughts cross his mind, nothing coherent or logical, just an explosion of light and warmth and then Erik is coming too, helpless to hold himself together as Charles trembles, falls apart all around him.

They stay pressed together for as long as they can, Erik’s breath stuttering over the sweat-slick skin of Charles’ neck, making them both shiver through the aftershocks. When he can’t hold him up any longer, Erik takes a step back, hands still wrapped around the backs of Charles’ thighs as he lets him down gently. They both wince as his cock slips out too quickly, leaving an emptiness that seems to echo in the silence between them. Charles won’t quite look him in the eye, and though he’d never admit it, Erik is terrified to speak first.

Then he feels Charles’ thoughts creeping into his own, asking permission, and Erik recognizes the spark of Charles’ happiness better than he knows his own.

“That’s cheating,” he murmurs, and Charles’ laughter doesn’t ring out just in his mind. It’s a welcome sound, and Erik can’t help but crush Charles’ body to his own once more, kissing him like he can’t get enough.

(He can’t.)

“We’re a _mess_ ,” Charles observes astutely when they finally manage to disentangle themselves from one another, taking in Erik’s disheveled hair, pants still around his knees, sweater ruined, knowing he himself must look even worse. “Should probably get cleaned up before the kids see us like this,” and Erik is right there already, eyebrows raised in amusement as he hands him his briefs, trousers hovering expectantly beside them.

Charles tugs his clothes on as Erik attempts to put himself back together. Slightly more confident in his appearance, he turns to look at Charles, and barely knows what he’s doing as he opens his mouth to ask, “Is it always like that with you?”

Charles doesn’t answer right away, tugging at the edge of his shirt; when he’s finally satisfied, he starts to turn toward Erik, but still won’t quite meet his gaze. “You mean the—” he gestures vaguely toward his head but doesn’t wait for an answer, letting out a weak laugh. “No. That’s never happened before. Only with you.” His eyes finally lock with Erik’s, and the taller man is taking steps toward him once again before he even realizes he’s moving. He only stops when they’re inches apart, lips nearly brushing as Charles repeats in a whisper, “Only you.”

And Erik thinks he’d be happy just to breathe Charles’ air for the rest of his life, standing too close as he looks him in the eye and feels his breath on his lips, but then Charles is kissing him again and _oh,_ that’s so much better.

There’s more breathless laughter when they break apart, a flush in Charles’ cheeks as he cards a hand through his newly wrecked hair. “We’re never going to leave this library, are we?” he wonders aloud, and grins as Erik murmurs, “I think I’d be alright with that.”

“A _bed_ might be nice at some point,” Charles points out, satisfying himself with one final chaste kiss and cherishing the groan that rumbles deep in Erik’s chest. _Tease_ echoes in his mind as he turns toward the door, though he counters the thought with _oh, but I fully intend to follow through._

He doesn’t turn around, but he can feel Erik’s smile in the back of his mind. It brings one to his own face, unbidden, and even as the door shuts behind him, all Charles can see is the brightest corner of his memory system, shining just a bit brighter than before.


End file.
